


Bits and Pieces

by SheeWolf85



Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Drabbles, Edge cures all boredom, Established Relationship, Gen, Multi, Other, Ramblings, TSA Employee Human, skeletons in love
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-06-22
Updated: 2020-11-29
Packaged: 2021-03-03 19:20:34
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 10,551
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24850714
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SheeWolf85/pseuds/SheeWolf85
Summary: A collection of little drabbles and ideas my brain comes up with. I wanted a section for them separate from Tumblr Requests, so here you have it.
Relationships: Papyrus/Papyrus (Undertale), Spicyhoney
Comments: 82
Kudos: 114





	1. Weapons

**Author's Note:**

> I honestly cannot say where this came from. I was driving to my dad's for Father's Day and suddenly I was hit with this image. I wasn't even passing an airport...
> 
> Regardless, Edge is nothing if not compassionate, and someone being that bored just would not do, no sir.

“Please put any weapons or metal in the bin,” the TSA agent said, monotone. He looked about as bored as he sounded despite the range of monsters in line behind Edge. 

“Any particular type of weapons?” Edge asked. 

The agent looked up at him, unimpressed. “Any and all,” he answered. 

Okay then. Edge had prepared for this trip, no external weapons were allowed where he was going and so none were coming with him. He couldn’t exactly remove his warrior instincts, however, and so Edge stared at the bin for a second, puzzling over how he would pull this off. 

“It’s not that hard, dude, you got any weapons on you or not?”

Edge smirked. “Not exactly.” He then moved the bin entirely and sat on the rolling track, scooting back far enough to cross his legs. “I am a weapon, a terrifying force to be reckoned with. Former Captain of the Royal Guard and now Head of Monster Security.”

A few of the children in line snickered, there were some groans, but best of all, the agent smirked like he was trying to hold back laughter. 

“Come on now, Edge, we need to be going,” former Queen Toriel said with an indulgent smile. 

Edge climbed off the counter and stood at her side. “Yes, your majesty.” He turned his attention back to the agent. “I have no other weapons on me, and neither do the children.”

The agent nodded. “Then if you’ll all step through the metal detector one by one, we’ll get you on your way.”


	2. Buyer's Remorse

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Edge is having some doubts after a relatively pricey purchase. Stretch is there to convince him that it's okay to let himself have nice things.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, I recently bought a patio set for myself. I've wanted one for the entire five years I've lived in this apartment, and I had the money, so I splurged. I wrote this as a way to deal with my own buyer's remorse and to remind myself that it's okay to treat myself every now and then.

Stretch didn’t need two guesses to know what was wrong with his baby. Edge was currently stalking around their small apartment with a rag in one hand and a spray bottle of some cleaning solution in the other. Any bit of dirt or grime in his path paid dearly for daring to settle in their home. 

Cleaning was normal for Edge, that was true enough. It was _how_ he was cleaning that was the tip-off that he wasn’t exactly okay. He oversaturated whatever surface had his attention and then scrubbed it within an inch of its life. Earlier that morning, it had been vacuuming, and if Edge had taken that opportunity to move everything out of the living room to get every single square centimeter, Stretch had merely helped him rearrange. 

The only place he hadn’t cleaned yet was the kitchen, and that was far more telling than Edge probably guessed. 

“babe?” Stretch said amicably enough, trying to avoid raising suspicion. 

Edge looked up from where he was currently scrubbing the bathroom sink for the fourth time. “What?”

He didn’t technically snap the question, but it was close enough. Stretch didn’t take offense; he already knew none of this had anything to do with him. Once upon a time, that might have been different, but well, they’d had two years on the surface together for him to get his shit together. A year of that time had seen them dating and only four months ago they decided to get a place together, move out from under their brothers’ watchful eyes. 

Well, Red wasn’t so much watching Edge as he was kicking him out the door, but that was another topic for another day. 

“think it’s about time for a break, don’t you? you hungry? i could maybe help whip up a sandwich or something.”

Edge’s shoulders stiffened and he scrubbed a little harder as he grumbled. “No thank you, I’m fine.”

Yeah, no. Stretch took a step closer and gently laid a hand on Edge’s to get him to stop for a second. “come on, babe; you’ve been at this all day. you need a break. if you don’t wanna go in the kitchen, that’s fine. we could get takeout somewhere.”

He winced as he said it, realizing too late that it was a bad idea. 

And yet, it had an unexpectedly positive effect. Edge sighed and stood up, gingerly setting the rag down to peel off his gloves. 

“That won’t be necessary.” He leaned forward enough to give Stretch a small kiss. “We have plenty of food here.”

Yes, they did, because his baby was an excellent cook and a borderline hoarder of all things useful to boot. If they ever ran out of fresh fruits or vegetables, they had canned goods to last them for weeks. How Edge managed to puzzle it all into their tiny pantry was a mystery for the ages. 

“okay,” he agreed, following Edge to the kitchen. 

Their kitchen was pretty small, especially compared to the one Stretch was used to in Blue’s house. The apartment itself was tiny, but it was about all they could afford with their combined income. And besides, it was theirs. They had chosen the furniture together, they had decorated together, and maybe they’d squabbled a bit over where to put certain decorations, they had ultimately come to an agreement without having to listen to any outside advice. 

In the corner behind the table was a large box that had been sitting there all week, completely ignored. It was a new cooking set that Edge had wanted when they first moved in, but they couldn't afford it at the time. They’d settled for hand-me-downs and thrift store finds, and while Stretch knew his baby was okay with it, he also knew Edge wanted to make this whole adventure entirely their own. So, when Edge had gotten a larger check than he’d anticipated thanks to a bonus he didn’t think he’d qualified for, he had gone right ahead and bought the set. 

Stretch was honestly proud of him for it. Money and spending was still a bit of a sore spot for Edge. It was for Stretch, too, but not nearly as sensitive as it was for Edge. He supposed Underfell had been a bit worse off than Underswap had been. It was sad to think it, but it was in the past and all they could do now was deal with how to move forward. 

Namely, how to convince an Edgelord that he deserved nice things. 

As Edge was digging in the cupboard for one of the old, half-rusted pans that should have been put out of its misery a century ago, Stretch wandered over to the box and lifted it up onto the table. 

“hey baby, why don’t you use one of your new pans if you’re going to cook something?”

Edge immediately shook his head. “No, this will work fine.” He set the poor pan on the stove, and Stretch sighed. 

“they’ve been sitting here for a week, babe. they’re getting jealous of the shitty pans.” He started inspecting the box to see how he might get it open.

“They can be jealous all they want; I’ll be returning them to the store next week.”

Stretch paused just as he was about to start peeling tape because he was too lazy to get a knife or scissors to cut it, looking over at Edge with wide sockets. 

“why the hell would you do that? you’ve wanted this specific set for months.” Stretch wasn’t exactly sure what it was about those pans that were better than any other new ones, but Edge had insisted they would be the best. And the set also came with knives that apparently never needed sharpening. Something Stretch could use right about now to get the box open.

Edge waved a hand in dismissal. “It was foolish of me to purchase them to begin with.” 

Abandoning his attempts at freeing the new cookware, Stretch walked over to where Edge was pulling eggs and butter from the fridge. 

“babe, it’s not foolish or stupid to want something nice for a change.” He stopped Edge from turning on the stove, pulling him over to sit at the table with him. He didn’t miss the glare cast toward the box as if his eye lights might somehow turn into lasers powerful enough to poof the whole thing out of existence. 

“you’ve told me that some of our pans we have now are worse than ones you had in Underfell. i think that’s saying something right there. besides, what’s the point of even being up here on the surface if we can’t let ourselves enjoy the things that come with it? you deserve to let yourself have nice things, babe.”

Edge looked at him then and sighed. “I let myself enjoy many things on the Surface. And as far as nice things are concerned, I let myself have the nicest of them all: I’m sharing a home with you.”

Stretch couldn’t help the blush that rose on his cheekbones. “being a smooth fucker isn’t going to change my mind. you bought this set for a reason, babe, and i’m not going to let you sabotage your own happiness by returning it. don’t use it now if you don’t want to, but maybe invite our brothers over for dinner tomorrow. you could show it off to blue.”

Edge sighed. “I really shouldn’t have bought it yet, though. Rent is coming up and there are plenty of bills that need paid next month. We need to build our savings; I read that we should have at least six months’ rent plus enough for food and gas and all of our bills should either of us lose our jobs.”

Of course Edge would have found that little nugget of misguided information. Stretch didn’t scowl or fuss over how Edge really needed to stop reading those stupid finance articles. Instead, he took Edge’s hands in his and leaned forward to take a kiss. 

“babe, you know as well as i do that kind of advice is meant for people who make the big bucks. we don’t; we only make little bucks, and building that kind of savings would take a long fucking time. i’m not saying we don’t need to save. i’m not saying it’s not a good idea to have at least one month’s rent and bills put back when we can afford to do that. in the meantime, please tell me why you’re perfectly fine letting me shell out for those dumbass movies while you can’t have something for yourself?”

“They make you happy, Stretch, and besides, they only cost a few dollars each and we both watch them.”

Stretch nodded. “yeah, that’s true. we both benefit from the movies. they might only be a few bucks each, but i get three or four of ‘em a month. that adds up. maybe i should think about easing up a little?”

As he’d hoped, Edge shook his head. “No, of course not, sweetheart. That’s not at all what I’m saying.”

“i know, babe. but what i’m saying is that you bought an expensive pan set that you’re going to be able to use for years. if we look at what my couple bucks will cost me over the next several years, i could probably buy two or three of your cooking sets. do you see what i’m saying? you’ve got a double standard going on here, and it hurts me to see you selling yourself short because what you want is a chunk upfront. if making me happy is another reason to buy something, then let me tell you that seeing you happy makes me happy. it’s schmoopy, i know, but it’s the truth. and don’t even get me started on how we’ll both be able to enjoy the pans, because we both know i eat what you cook and that means both of us benefit from the pans.”

Edge huffed but nodded. “You’re right. I know you’re right, but what if…” he hesitated on something, looking back toward the box. This time his expression was less murder and more wistful longing. “I’m worried that I’ll ruin them.”

Stretch stood up and slithered his way into Edge’s lap. He cupped his face with both hands and gave him a soft kiss. “i get that, i really, really do. but i know you see that ‘5-year warranty’ sign on the side of the box. i know how you treat things that are important to you. if those pans are shitty enough to get ruined by your tender touch, i don’t think they’d have warrantied them.” Another kiss. “please let yourself have this, babe. if anyone in the world deserves to give themselves a treat, it’s you.”

They were both silent for a moment, Edge’s eye lights cast to the side as he gave his decision some thought. Stretch let himself snuggle into his baby’s arms, his head resting on Edge’s shoulder and his arms wrapped around his ribcage. As he deliberated, he rubbed Stretch’s back and gently swayed in their seat. 

Finally, Edge dipped his head and pressed a kiss to Stretch’s skull. “You really think I should keep them?”

Stretch didn’t snark about that being what he’d been saying for the past fifteen minutes, he didn’t roll his eye lights with a hearty ‘duh’, and he didn’t make any Sherlock comments. Instead, he only sat up and nodded.

“I really think you should keep them.”

Edge nodded as well. “What will we do with all the pans we have now?”

A shrug wasn’t a good enough answer, so Stretch added, “we can always donate them back to the thrift store they came from.”

It was apparently a viable option for his persnickety lover. Edge nodded once again and pulled Stretch in for a deep kiss. 

“I love you,” he said softly when they parted. 

Stretch smiled. “i love you too, babe. can i help you unpack them?” There was a certain joy in unpacking new things, and Stretch wanted to share that joy with Edge. 

“Only as long as you help me wash them and put them away. Which also means you have to help gather the old ones.”

Stretch didn’t let himself deflate. He’d learned the hard way over the last few years that good times often came with chores. That was okay. As long as Edge was finally letting himself have something nice for a change, it was certainly worth it.


	3. Standing Up

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> If it had been anyone else that she was stepping all over, you would have said something. You’d been known to yell and even throw a punch once over someone pestering someone you loved, but you just couldn’t seem to get up enough courage or outrage or whatever else needed to stand up for your own wants and needs lest you come off as rude or hurt someone’s feelings.
> 
> Luckily for you, Edge had no such qualms.
> 
> Edge/Reader

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Idk, guys, I guess I have a thing for writing about skelebois helping a reader with things I struggle with. Here’s another great example, one I’ve written about too many times probably, but I doubt this will be the last.
> 
> Sometimes I think my brain took a left turn at Albuquerque when I was a kid and took the lesson of “be polite” a tad too far.

The day started off as it usually did: half-asleep kisses followed by gloriously fresh coffee. Add in some fruity oatmeal with your sweetheart’s signature touch, and you had a verified Good Morning. 

After the morning ritual of coffee and breakfast was complete, it was time to start the day. You had a few things on your list, one of which was assembling the porch swing you’d bought for the front yard. Your porch itself was a little too small, but the lawn was big enough and a few tall trees provided the perfect shady spot in the grass to lounge and swing while you enjoyed lazy afternoons with your bonefriend. 

He hated it when you called him that, but honestly it was only more a reason to keep it up. You truly adored the way he’d roll his eye lights at you but that tiny smirk only people who knew Edge well could pick out told you that he enjoyed it on some level. 

“Would you like help?” Edge asked as you prepared to head outside. 

You tied your sneakers—you had learned a hard lesson about wearing sandals when working with screws and other hardware—and looked up at him. 

“No, I’ll be fine.” You stood up and went to him, standing on your tip toes to ask for a kiss. He obliged. “I know you’ll know what I mean when I say there’s a certain satisfaction in putting something together by yourself.”

He nodded, hands on your hips to hold you steady since you were still on your toes. 

“I do understand that. Let me know if there’s anything I can help you with. In the meantime, I’ll be in my office grading papers.”

You pursed your lips in request of another kiss. He gave you a deep one, enough to get your body thinking about how talented he was with that tongue of his, and then pulled away. 

“Love you,” you said, a touch breathless, and dropped back to your flat feet. 

“I love you, too.” 

You pulled away from him then before you could change your mind about getting this done. He gave you a swift pat on the ass before walking away, not a single inch of his stoic body or purposeful walk hinting at the sweet, sensual beast you knew hid within him. You were just fine with that. 

With a secret smile on your face, you grabbed a hat to keep the sun out of your eyes and went out the front door. A few of your neighbors had congregated in the common area that was the cul-de-sac where you lived, and you waved and called a hello when they noticed you. A few called out their own greetings. They were nice enough people, accepting of the variety of people and monsters in their lives. There were a few that still didn’t understand the concept of a personal bubble, but that was an issue you’d had with many people in your life. 

After greeting your neighbors, you got started on your project. There were a few boxes to unpack and instructions to read before you could actually start any assembly, so you began the task of figuring out just what you were working with. You had a few paper bowls set aside for the hardware you’d need to keep separated and handy. 

You were only halfway through unpacking the first box when a voice calling out to you caught your attention. You looked over to see Carol coming up with a wave and a smile. You groaned internally but plastered a smile on your face because heaven forbid you come off as rude to anyone. 

Just as you’d expected, she didn’t ask if you needed or wanted any help, she didn’t even so much as pretend to be interested in your opinion on the matter, she just launched into a story about her cousin’s latest camping trip as she opened another box. It wasn’t even the next box you would have opened. It made your gut churn and your eye twitch; she was messing with your method!

And yet, you didn’t have it in you to say anything. You hated that about yourself. Even knowing that your own happiness and comfort was important, you couldn’t bring yourself to say anything that might upset someone else.

So instead of asking her to stop and leave you to it, you only nodded along with her story and watched with nausea as she systematically destroyed your carefully planned out project. You managed to ask her to please not dump all the different types of screws into the same bowl and to not start putting pieces together before you’d taken everything out of the boxes. She seemed amicable enough about your wishes. You had to wonder how she’d take it if you asked her to leave you alone. Would she still be okay with it, or would she insist she was only trying to help and take offense at not having her hospitality be accepted. 

“Hello, Carol.” 

Edge’s ice cold voice made the both of you freeze. You looked over at him, standing a few feet away with his arms crossed over his chest, his reading glasses held in one hand, and a look of pure murder in his eye lights. He knew how you felt about Carol. He knew that you’d wanted to do this by yourself. 

She seemed to recover quickly enough, standing up with a bright smile. “Hey, Edge! How’re the kids?”

“My students are fine, as far as I’m aware. What are you doing?” He looked at you, and you could only breathe a sigh of relief. You doubted Carol would have noticed a thing, but you saw the pity he threw your way. He was adamant that he was going to teach you how to stand up for yourself, and while you were terrified of the idea, you were also a little bit hopeful that some of his confidence could rub off on you. Today was not that day, however, and he seemed to understand that. 

If it had been anyone else that Carol was stepping all over, you would have said something. You’d been known to yell and even throw a punch once over someone pestering someone you loved, but you just couldn’t seem to get up enough courage or outrage or whatever else needed to stand up for your own wants and needs lest you come off as rude or hurt someone’s feelings.

Luckily for you, Edge had no such qualms.

“I’m helping,” she said brightly. “I always like to help out, you know that.”

Edge nodded gravely. “I do know that, but  _ you _ know that when it comes to my significant other and myself, you are required to ask first. I told you as much the last time you attempted to touch my garden.”

You swallowed, peeking up at Carol. As you’d feared, she looked truly indignant. “You didn’t so much tell me as you demanded it. And why aren’t you out here helping then? It’s not like she can do this all by herself.”

You felt yourself puff up at that, but still whatever stupid blockage you had kept you silent. 

“I’m not helping because she very much can do this by herself and she requested to do so.” He looked at you then. “Or have you changed your mind, love?”

You shook your head. “No, not really.” Your voice sounded too soft, too uncertain.

Carol sneered at you. This wasn’t the first time she had bullied her way into helping you with some chore or another, and also not the first time Edge had called her out on her assumption that everyone needed her help. She had apologized before, saying she just hated seeing anyone needing help and just standing there. 

More like she couldn’t let an opportunity to gossip pass her by. She needed to have her nose in everyone’s business, and the kinds of gossip she shared the first day you met her was a warning not to talk about anything personal within earshot of her. If she blabbed the kinds of things she did about your neighbors, there was no doubt she’d turn around and blab your secrets to them. 

You didn’t say anything, only looked around at the mess she’d created. It would take more time to get your process back in order than it would have been to just follow it in the first place. Ugh, you really disliked being who you were sometimes. 

“And so you see, your help is not needed,” Edge said calmly enough. “I’m going to ask you nicely just once to leave. For your sake, I hope you don’t make me ask again.”

Carol rolled her eyes and huffed, but she did turn around and walk away, grumbling the whole way. 

You sighed in relief and looked up when Edge crouched next to you, a hand coming to rest on your shoulder.

“Are you all right, love?”

You nodded. “Yeah. Thanks, baby.”

He nodded and kissed you. “You’re welcome. Would you like to continue this by yourself,” he gestured with a nod of his head to the bits and pieces strewn around. 

You quirked your mouth. “Actually, could you help me get stuff back in order?”

With a quick nod, he got to work. He knew your thought processes almost as well as you knew his, didn’t even have to ask how you wanted the pieces arranged to best maximize work flow. Once all your parts were in order once again, Edge gave you another kiss and left you alone to your process while he went to finish grading papers. 

It took a few hours to get it all done, but in the end you had a beautiful swinging bench with a comfortable cushion. You stood back to admire your work, a strong sense of accomplishment settling nicely in your chest. 

With a nod, you went to ask Edge to come inspect your work. You were pretty confident you’d done it all correctly considering it was a functional piece of outdoor furniture and not a mess of metal, but it never hurt to have a second set of critical eyes check it over.

And besides, it was the perfect excuse to get him to sit in it with you for a moment. Perhaps he’d wrap an arm around your shoulders and pull you into his loving embrace. Maybe he’d even make some hot chocolate or tea that you two could enjoy as you watched the neighborhood kids play. 

The possibilities were all there, and you were looking forward to seeing how the rest of your day played out with your sweetheart. 


	4. Freedom

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stretch just doesn’t want Edge to spend the Fourth of July alone, even if that means holding him as he tries to avoid panic and anxiety with all the sounds of the city’s fireworks.
> 
> Spicyhoney, veteran Edge, PTSD, sweetheart Stretch

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really don’t feel like I did this subject justice, but I also know that if I don’t post it now I never will. 
> 
> PTSD is something that I personally deal with, but it’s not “severe” and it’s not from a combat situation. Everyone’s experiences are different, and I would never pretend to know what any veteran feels about fireworks in general. 
> 
> That being said, this was inspired by a conversation I had with a veteran a few years back. It was near the fourth and he mentioned that he and his dog both would be huddling in the bedroom to try to survive the night.
> 
> Anyhoo. I hope you enjoy!

The afternoon was bright and cheerful with families out for a stroll together to enjoy the warm weather. Couples walked their dogs, and children giggled excitedly, looking forward to the evening’s festivities. 

Edge sighed to himself and poured another glass of filtered water with trembling hands. He’d been preparing for this day for the past month, trying to at least. With each passing year, it never got any easier to handle, and Edge was fairly certain at this point it never would. 

His plan was simple. He’d spend the evening in the basement, tucked into a closet he’d made up for this purpose with every pillow and blanket he owned surrounding him to help muffle the noise. With him he would have his tablet playing the kinds of stupid movies his brother would have watched with him if Red weren’t in another state this year training a group of kids who all liked to believe they were the next Jason Bourne. 

A knock on the door interrupted his thoughts. Edge frowned to himself; he wasn’t expecting visitors. He had a half a thought to ignore it when the bell rang three times in rapid succession and then his phone beeped. 

It was from Stretch, which was a surprise on its own. A simple message of “knock knock” made it obvious who was at his front door. The two of them had been almost-dating for a few months now, and Edge had found that he always welcomed messages from Stretch, except for the past few weeks. One thing Edge could say with absolute certainty about Stretch was that once he had his mind set to something, he was damn persistent about it. Edge was no pushover, especially not about this, and their battle of wills had recently ended in some regrettably harsh words being said by the both of them. They had both managed to apologize without lashing out again, but none of that explained what he might be doing here. He was supposed to be down at the fair with Blue and the others. 

With no small amount of trepidation, he went to open the door, 

Stretch stood there with a brown paper bag in his hands and a wide grin on his face. If it weren’t for baggy clothes or the light but still noticeable stains under his sockets, one might have mistaken him for Papyrus. He was nearly trembling with excitement, already bouncing on his feet like a child eager to show off something they’re proud of. 

“hey, so I know you keep saying you don’t like fireworks,” he immediately burst into explanation, and Edge’s soul fell in weary disappointment. He had hoped this argument was over. “but i think you just haven’t found the right kind of fireworks, y’know? and yeah, they’re big and go boom but that’s kinda the point? anyway, I brought some things that i thought maybe we could light together. none of them are loud, i made sure of that, but i don’t want you spending the fourth all by yourself.”

Edge was pretty sure he’d never heard Stretch talk so fast before, all his excitement and nervousness spilled into each word. 

He wanted to decline and tell Stretch to just go back to the fair and enjoy the celebration with the others. He wanted to. But he found that he couldn’t. Stretch looked so damn hopeful, holding a bag of things he’d picked out for Edge specifically because he hadn’t taken the time to explain to Stretch why exactly he didn’t like fireworks. It wasn’t even so much that he didn’t like them. They were beautiful and had once inspired a kind of awe in him that nothing else could touch. The last several years, however, they’d been...not so wonderful.

He sighed and stepped back to let Stretch inside. He slipped past Edge, still vibrating, and immediately rushed to the coffee table. Edge only shut the door and followed him. He watched as Stretch began unloading the bag, pulling out different shaped packages including a few pyramid shaped strobes and strangely flat octagonal thing that promised a shower of bright golden glitter or blue and green butterflies. Edge reached out and picked up a stout tower with the word “psychedelic” across the top in wavering font. He was surprised to find a small sticker near the base that declared it a low noise firework.

“see?” Stretch said with a happy smile, pointing out the sticker. “i mean, there’ll still be some noise, but it’ll be more like those buzzing flowers than the loud snaps and shit. oh, i have flowers, too.” He dug into his pocket and spilled about a dozen flower fireworks into the mix of them already on the coffee table. “what do you think?”

It was obvious he’d put a lot of time and effort into finding something he could include Edge in to celebrate the day with. Edge couldn’t help but wish he hadn’t bothered. He couldn’t say that, though; not without hurting Stretch, and he definitely didn’t want to do that. He’d already brought up the fact that they weren’t even technically dating, just fucking around, and while Stretch had tried to hide how much that comment had hurt him, Edge had seen it. He wasn’t going to bring it up again. At the very least, all of their activities aside, Stretch was his friend, and this was the kind of thing friends did for each other.

“I think I’m flattered that you would go through this much effort for me,” Edge said carefully. “But it’s not just the noise that I don’t like.”

Stretch may have tried to hide his disappointment, his hurt, but Edge saw through his attempts. His smile was no longer as radiant as it had been and his eye lights weren’t nearly as bright. He began fidgeting with one of the flowers as he sat heavily on the couch. 

Edge sighed and set the tower down on the table. “I’m sorry, Stretch. The bright lights tend to give me a headache, especially the strobing ones.” He gestured to his damaged socket, already dreading the memories that were going to be dredged up this evening. No matter what kinds of calming and distraction techniques he used, the entire week before and after the Fourth of July and New Year’s always brought on more nightmares and memories that he could usually keep forgotten the rest of the year. 

Stretch nodded. “i didn’t think about that.”

Edge sat next to him and took his hand. “That’s because I never bothered to tell you. It’s not your responsibility to think of those things, Stretch. It is mine, however, to tell you.” 

Stretch sucked in a breath and nodded again. “yeah, i guess.” He looked at Edge then and smiled a little. “so you don’t like fireworks cuz they’re noisy and bright?”

“It’s a bit more than that.” He really didn’t want to say just how badly they affected him, didn’t want anyone to have that kind of power over him. Still, this was Stretch, and if nothing else, Edge trusted him not to use the information for nefarious purposes. “I’m sorry I haven’t been very clear with you. It’s not something I like to talk about, but that’s no excuse. I truly do appreciate you thinking of me, but I won’t be able to even be outside tonight. The explosions, the bright, sometimes blinding lights, it’s too similar to what I experienced in the military. Even from far away, they scare me.” Oh, he hated to admit that. 

But Stretch didn’t mock him, didn’t laugh or even crack a smile. Instead, he squeezed Edge’s fingers and looked at him with sorrow in his sockets. “i really feel like i should have thought about that. i’m sorry i’ve been so pushy.”

Edge shook his head. “Again, it’s not your responsibility to think of those things.”

“maybe not, but I could have at least tried to think of reasons why a veteran wouldn’t like fireworks beyond ‘loud boom not good’.” Stretch leaned into him, resting his head on Edge’s shoulder. “so you’re just gonna stay inside?”

“Yes.” Edge pressed a kiss to Stretch’s skull. “You should go back to the fair; go have fun.”

“wouldn’t be any fun knowing you’re here all by yourself.” He sat up and scooted closer, leaning in again this time to snuggle into Edge’s side. “would it be okay if i stay here with you?”

Edge swallowed. He so wanted Stretch to be with him, to remind himself as memories tried to take over that he was safe. But that would mean letting him in so much more than he had already. It would mean letting Stretch see him like that. Something inside him cringed hard at the idea, wanted to tell Stretch to leave no matter if it would hurt his feelings or not. 

“I’m not sure,” he ventured carefully. “I can’t...it’s not as simple as staying inside. I’m not going to be any kind of host.”

Stretch nodded. “that’s okay. i don’t need a host, but i’m willing to bet you need a friend.” There was nothing but patience and kindness in his tone, and Edge clung to it. 

As he was about to say something else, the first tiny pops and fizzles of neighborhood fireworks began. Edge swallowed. These weren’t too bad, but they were only the beginning. All too soon they’d start on the big ones, and Edge needed to be in his safe space when that happened. 

“edge?” Stretch’s voice, calm but concerned, brought him out of his thoughts. 

“I have a space set up downstairs,” he managed. “You truly don’t need to stay with me. I need to go, I need to get set up.”

Stretch nodded and stood up with him. “is there anything i can do to help?”

Edge didn’t know how to answer that question. It was still light outside, there was at least an hour before it got bad, but all he could think about was drowning out the noise to survive the night. He cringed too hard when the neighbors set off a few of the louder fireworks, miniature booms going off in rapid succession. 

“let me help you get set up,” Stretch said softly. “just tell me what you need. you said it’s in the basement, yeah?”

Leading the way downstairs, Stretch all but took over as he quickly found Edge’s pillowed fortress. He climbed in and then helped Edge get settled in as well, pulling one of the blankets over the both of them. Edge managed to get his tablet from where he’d tucked it against the wall, a pair of headphones already plugged in. Stretch didn’t argue when Edge chose a movie and put the headphones on, only pulled Edge into his arms and held him against his chest. 

In what felt like no time at all, the movie playing did nothing to drown out the sounds of bombs exploding around him, screams of terror and pain echoing in his memories. He shivered and tried his best to focus on his breathing, and every so often Stretch would run a hand over his skull. It was soothing. It was a reminder of where exactly Edge was and where he was not. 

He was here in Stretch’s arms, trying to watch a movie but unable to comprehend anything that was happening. He didn’t dare turn it off. Instead, he unplugged the speakers so Stretch could ignore it with him, his soothing touches and occasional words keeping Edge grounded in the here and now. 


	5. Sweet & Sour

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Something of an exploration piece of what would happen if Rus makes a mess in Edge's kitchen while baking one day.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Many people in the fandom like to joke that Edge would be furious if anyone, including Rus, were to mess with his kitchen. While I am certainly not trying to shame anyone for finding humor in this trope, I wanted to explore a different reaction.

Long before Rus moved in with Edge, before they were even much more than friends, Rus knew that Edge’s kitchen was special to him. It was a place he could create nutritious treats for the people he cared about. Those treats varied from soups, salads, and breads to cookies and candies.

The kitchen was Edge’s haven. It was his workshop and the one place in the entire underground he would be upset if it got destroyed. Which it did. Often. 

Rus honestly couldn’t blame Edge for being as protective as he was about it. Just because they were on the surface didn’t mean nothing bad would ever happen again, and the few times an appliance had broken down was testament to that. 

So, yeah, when Rus moved in with Edge, he respected that the kitchen was his space and stayed out of the way. He wasn’t much of a chef anyway; his culinary prowess capped out at burning toast. 

But that had been back then. 

Rus had a year and a half of Netflix and YouTube cooking shows to get him thinking that maybe even he could make something decent. 

Logically, Rus knew that Edge wouldn’t be upset if he used the kitchen. He technically used the kitchen every day, whether it was for eating breakfast or reheating a pot of coffee or making a sandwich that didn’t require him to turn on the stove. He lived here for crying out loud; how could one live in a home and never use the kitchen?

But it wasn’t just using the kitchen that gave Rus pause. It was the fact that he had never talked to Edge about it. He didn’t know if there were any gadgets that he would prefer Rus not try to figure out on his own. Some of the things he saw on those cooking shows looked neat but expensive, and Rus already knew without even thinking about it how guilty he would feel if he accidentally broke something not so easy to replace. 

It wasn’t that Rus was nervous to talk to Edge. He wasn’t, really. At least, he didn’t think he was. It was just that he never thought about it when Edge was available. It wasn’t all that important anyway, and Rus was a master at putting things off. 

That was, until today. 

Today he saw the recipe for honey tarts and before he even realized what he was doing had his tablet in the kitchen as he dug through the various cupboards to see if they had all the equipment needed. He should’ve known he could count on Edge to have mini pie weights, but finding them was still an excitement. 

They had everything, including the vanilla bean. After a quick search to figure out how to scrape the odd thing and a few extra pointers, he made the final decision that he was going to try this. 

Edge was always working his non-existent ass off and yeah he liked to make treats and often took Rus’ requests, he’d been particularly busy this week and thus exhausted when he came home. Rus decided it would maybe be nice to come home to a treat for once. 

An hour and a half later, he was in full regret mode. He had to finish what he’d started, but it was already pretty clear his honey tarts were not going to be anything like the beautiful pale golden miracles in the picture. They were pretty much ready to go in the fridge and cool; he was just wrapping the last one in plastic wrap. They looked pretty sad and lopsided, to be honest. 

After he found a spot in the fridge for each tart, he turned and looked in dismay at the mess he’d made. Just as he started to puzzle through the best way to have the kitchen spotless when Edge got home, he heard the familiar rumble of a motorcycle pull into the garage. 

He turned in horror to see that it was much later than he’d thought. He must have started much later than he realized. How could Edge be home already? He was going to absolutely freak when he saw the state of his beloved kitchen!

Rus frantically began soaking dishes, trying to quickly scrub almost-burnt honey mixture out of a pan. He did his best to ignore the nasty voice at the back of his skull that told him Edge was going to be too upset to even talk to him the rest of the night. He’d be lucky to get yelled at or even a lecture. 

How did he talk himself into this? He knew it would be a mess. He wasn’t good at cleaning up as he went along like Edge was. He saved it all up to the end, which only resulted in dried up and crusty bits stuck to bowls and pans like cement. He should have been soaking these dishes all along! How could he be so stupid?!

“Rus? Love?”

Edge’s voice finally broke through the cacophony of his thoughts, and Rus stilled. His boyfriend’s voice was rich with concern, but still he nearly shrieked when Edge’s hands fell lightly on his shoulders.

“Are you okay?” he asked gently. 

Rus sucked in a breath and nodded. He didn’t dare turn around to see his expression. 

“Are you sure? I said your name three times before you heard me.”

His tone wasn’t anything more than concern, but Rus still felt himself flinch. “i’m sorry,” he said softly. 

Edge kissed the side of his skull. “No need to apologize, love. What did you make?”

That got him to turn in confusion to see Edge looking at the mess not with anger, but something Rus might actually call interest. 

“um…” He wasn’t sure what to say for a moment. In his effort at baking, he’d managed to spill ingredients and mixtures, and flour had gotten absolutely everywhere despite his honest attempt at keeping it contained. The countertops were all smeared with bits of crust or custard and everything seemed dusted in a light coating of flour. “honey tarts? or at least, i tried.”

Edge nodded. “Those can be difficult. I’m sure they’ll turn out fine. Would you like some help cleaning up?”

Oh, Rus absolutely hated being given that choice. On one hand, having help would make it go so much faster and easier. On the other, Rus had done this because Edge was working so hard and asking him to help clean just seemed wrong. 

Eventually Rus managed to shake his head. “no, i’ve got this. why don’t you rest for a minute? i'm sure you’re probably tired.”

But Edge only raised a brow. “When have you known me to rest?”

Rus shrugged. “you sure rested well last night.”

“That’s different. Work may be mentally draining, but it does nothing to exhaust me physically. Making love to you, on the other hand…” he trailed off, a smirk on his mouth as he leaned in to give Rus a soft kiss. 

He pulled away too quickly and began surveying the dishes in the sink. Rus was beyond confused. 

“i’m sorry,” he said, feeling a little useless as he tried to come up with a good strategy to get everything clean quickly. 

Edge glanced at him briefly as he unbuttoned his shirtsleeves and began rolling them up. “Why?”

Rus gestured around them. “for this. i made a big mess.”

Edge nodded. “Yes, but baking often does that.”

Rus swallowed, watching as Edge began washing the bowls that had not soaked nearly long enough. “you’re not upset?”

Hands submerged and scrubbing, Edge looked at him again. “Why would I be? You have every right to make something if you want to.” He paused then and slowly pulled his hands out of the water, drying them on the towel laying near the sink. He turned to Rus and pulled him into a tight, unexpected hug. “Rus, I love my kitchen, but I love you more. I would never be upset with you for choosing to cook in here even if it ended up making twenty times the mess we have now. The only thing I ask is that you treat our things with respect, and I already know you do. I don’t even have to question it for a moment. 

“If something dire were to happen like you broke a bowl or a pie pan or even set something on fire, it could always be fixed or replaced. What I can’t just fix or replace is you. I want you to be happy here with me, love, and I know you are. But I can’t help but feel like you’re scared to touch anything in here, and I don’t want that. A mess can always be cleaned. Never forget that, please.”

Rus clung to Edge and buried his face in the crook of his shoulder. “i love you so much,” he whispered. 

“I love you too.” Edge pulled back just enough to press a kiss to his temple. “So much.”

They were both silent for a moment as Rus soaked in the love and comfort from his fiancé. After a few minutes, Rus pulled back and kissed Edge. “let’s get this cleaned up and then maybe we can relax on the couch in front of some neftlix for a mo’ before dinner.”

Edge nodded. “Sounds like a plan to me.”

* * *

Later, after dinner had been eaten and cleaned up, the two pulled the tarts out of the fridge to check them. The recipe had said to chill for two hours, and it had been closer to three, so they should be good, right?

Except the first one looked much gooier than it probably should, still jiggling in its little crust. The second one was maybe a little more stable, but not much. 

“that’s not good, is it?” Rus asked, going to poke at the first one. 

Edge caught his hand. “Custard requires precision and patience, and for what was likely your first attempt, I think they look wonderful.” He held out two spoons. “What’s more important is how they taste.”

Rus nodded. He’d heard that from nearly all the cooking skeletons in his family and from many people on the cooking shows he watched. Together, Edge and Rus dug into their tarts. 

Rus nearly melted to the ground right then. He knew he’d done well enough to get them looking something like a honey tart, but they tasted so good he could hardly believe Edge hadn’t swapped them with something else. He had made this? This miracle of honey and vanilla had come from his own hands?

An odd sound caught his attention, and he looked over to see Edge trying and failing to hide a smirk. He’d been laughing, the dork. 

“what?” Rus asked with as much indignation as he could muster. A little difficult when your taste senses were still drifting through heaven. 

“You are absolutely beautiful,” Edge answered. 

Rus raised a brow. “thanks?”

“You’re welcome. I take it you like it? They turned out quite good. I’m impressed; custard took me a while to get right.”

Rus nodded and took another bite. That time he heard himself moan and felt his eye lights shift. Edge snickered again, but Rus ignored it. He had a dessert to savor. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading!


	6. Heavenly Bodies

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It’s a special day for husbands Edge and Rus. If only Rus would finish tinkering with his gift and get to the REAL celebration, that’d be great.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don’t even know what inspired this, but here you go.

Edge has been watching Rus looking through that damn telescope for four hours now. He’s really glad Rus likes it, he is, but it’s kind of a special day and Edge is ready to celebrate for real. He clears his throat loudly so Rus can hear him from out on the balcony.

“yes, dear?” he says absently, jotting something down in his notebook with a socket still glued to the telescope. 

“You’ve been at that for hours,” Edge says just loud enough to let his voice carry, injecting enough sultry seasoning to make it enticing. “Why don’t you come in here and study _this_ heavenly body?”

All he hears for a moment is Rus’ laughter. Then his husband finally comes in and shuts the door, drawing the curtains, a near-maniacal grin on his face. 

“this is the best damn birthday I’ve ever had!” he all but squeals as he launches himself to the bed. 

If only Edge had known that from that day forward, Rus would take every single opportunity to ~~mock~~ praise him for his heavenly humor.


	7. Jelly Proposal

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sans makes an impromptu decision and Edge accepts. Kedgeup. G.

Quarter machines were his weakness. Sans hadn’t met one yet that he’d been able to resist, his growing collection of silly toys and trinkets a testimony to the sad truth of it. It never mattered what they held--poorly made plastic toys, temporary tattoos, candy, sadly inept jawbreakers--he always carried an extra quarter or five in his pocket just in case he ran into one. 

So it really wasn’t any kind of surprise when Edge found him excitedly dunking a quarter into one of the machines as they entered the grocery store. He waited patiently while Sans collected his prize, some sort of squishy light-up toy, then gently urged him on so they could do their shopping and get back home. Instead of moving on, however, Sans smirked and held up the toy. 

“hey, edgelord, check it out.” He twisted it this way and that, and Edge realized it was a poor excuse for a ring. It seemed to be made of the same jelly-like material as the sticky-hands Sans was so fond of. It was pale purple, the top of the ring bulbous and spiked as though someone honestly believed they could make jelly look like a diamond. 

Just as Edge was about to say something, Sans squeezed the hideous thing and it lit up as it had inside the package, a truly dizzying combination of orange, blue, and red flashing in rapid succession. 

“isn’t it just beautiful? the most gorgeous thing you ever saw? i could propose to someone with this ring--hey, wanna marry me?”

The thing was, Edge knew Sans was joking. He knew that Sans knew that Edge thought the ring was an abomination and should be left in the void to rot. But Edge had been having...thoughts, recently. Thoughts of taking his relationship with Sans further, of making it legal under the laws of the Surface world. He didn’t know what Sans’ thoughts on the subject were; they’d never had anything even close to a serious conversation about it. 

So despite the ring being the furthest thing from proper for an engagement, and despite not knowing how Sans was going to react, Edge went for it. 

“Of course I do.” He held out his left hand. 

Sans’ grin faltered for a second, his sockets going wide with surprise as he looked up at Edge. For a half a second, he was worried that he’d made a mistake. Sans didn’t want to marry him. It had been a joke, just a stupid question that meant nothing. 

But then Sans’ smile returned and his cheekbones darkened with a deep blue blush. “heh, okay.” He took a second to put the ring on Edge’s fourth finger, the jelly trying its best to be uncooperative. It felt funny against his phalanges. 

Edge lifted his hand to look at it in the light as though it were a real diamond. The lights had thankfully turned off and he was left with pale purple that clashed horribly with the crimson hue between his finger joints and metacarpals. 

“I’ll cherish this, always,” he said honestly, looking back down at Sans. “Can we go do our shopping now?”

Sans’ grin was nearly large enough to break his face. “you know you don’t gotta actually wear that, right?” he asked with a hint of laughter in his voice. 

“Good luck getting it off of me.”

Sans chuckled and took his right hand. “nah, i’d rather wait ‘n’ see how long before you kill it with fire.”

Edge raised a brow at his boyfr--no, his fiancé--but chose not to say anything. He knew Sans would get the gist of it from his expression anyway:  _ Challenge Accepted. _   


* * *

Edge was used to people staring at him by now. He was nearly seven feet of scarred, intimidating skeleton who worked in an office with mostly humans. Even if many of them were accustomed to him by now, their turnover among the lower levels was high and each week saw a new intern to gawk at him. 

What was odd about walking to his office wasn’t the strange looks and whispers he got as he walked passed the few open desks on his way, but rather how his secretary lingered at his door as though she wanted to ask him something but wasn’t sure how. 

Angela had worked with him for two years now and was quite possibly the best secretary he’d had in his six years at this company. Her first few months were trying, but he often reminded himself that she was learning, and they both stuck it out only to be rewarded with a system that truly worked well for the both of them. 

Her black hair was pulled up in a professional bun today, her suit a smart cream that contrasted well with her dark skin. Her dark red lips were pursed as she stared at him from the doorway, two folders holding notes and meeting files for him clutched to her breast. 

“Can I help you?” He finally asked, glancing at her. She had long since gotten over any hesitation about talking to him and had even gotten to the point that she felt comfortable calling him out on his very few mistakes. He was grateful for it and really hoped he hadn’t done something to bring back her earlier hesitance. 

Her mouth quirked again and she cleared her throat before approaching his desk. 

“That’s an, um, unusual accessory you have there,” she said with odd hesitation, pointing with a long fingernail toward his left hand. 

Ah. Yes. This wasn’t the first time anyone had mentioned his new engagement ring, though he truly hoped Angela would be more understanding than the fools at the grocery store. They’d learned their lesson, true, but not before making Sans feel like an idiot, and that right there was a most inexcusable crime. 

Thankfully Sans wasn’t here to witness whatever it was Angela might have to say. 

Edge lifted his hand to examine the ring. It truly was hideous, but the intent would never fail to make his soul feel as soft and squishy as the ring itself. 

“Sans proposed to me last weekend,” he said simply.

Angela was silent for a second, though Edge’s scrutinizing gaze could see the different thoughts pass over her face. She was very clearly confused about what to think, but ultimately settled on the knowledge that Edge wasn’t a prankster at the office and his jokes were infinitely more hilarious. 

“I...see. Um, well, congratulations!” She smiled brightly, the gap between her very white front teeth all the more evident with the lipstick she wore. “I’ll just...leave these here for you.”

“Would you like to see what it does?” Edge asked suddenly. He wasn’t sure why. 

Angela stopped in her tracks and stared at him with wide eyes for a second too long before she recovered. “It does something?” She asked hesitantly. 

“Yes, of course.” He pressed it against his finger to activate the lights. 

The sound his secretary made was not one he’d ever heard from her before. She sputtered something that sounded like “Oh my god” before she burst into laughter. 

With a smirk, Edge pressed the ring again to turn the lights off. 

“I’m sorry,” Angela said through a second fit of giggles, “I really am sorry, but that is the best thing I have ever seen in my life!” She carefully wiped a tear from under her eye without smearing her makeup. “Please tell your fiancé I said he has the best taste.”

Edge granted her a rare smile and nodded. “He already knows, but I’ll tell him.”

She stepped up to the desk then, and with a few lingering giggles, talked him through the notes and files for the day’s meetings. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My daughter got this exact jelly light-up ring from my sister in law for Halloween and it viciously attacked my muses. I hope you got a chuckle!


	8. Challenge Accepted

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Arguing with Edge was always the highlight of his day. They didn’t even argue so much anymore; it was just fun to annoy each other as much as possible. Sometimes Edge got the upper hand, but lately it seemed that Stretch was the victor more often than not. And that, friends and neighbors, was reason enough to agree when Edge asked him to go help set up for an event at the embassy at six o’clock in the morning on a Saturday. 
> 
> Stretch makes a promise and Edge showcases a hidden talent.
> 
> Pre-Spicyhoney, rated G

Arguing with Edge was always the highlight of his day. They didn’t even argue so much anymore; it was just fun to annoy each other as much as possible. Sometimes Edge got the upper hand, but lately it seemed that Stretch was the victor more often than not. And that, friends and neighbors, was reason enough to agree when Edge asked him to go help set up for an event at the embassy at six o’clock in the morning on a Saturday. 

The event wasn’t even until the next day, but in a twist that surprised absolutely nobody, Edge insisted on perfection. 

Monsters were milling around doing their part to help as Edge delegated tasks and monitored progress. Stretch had been asked to help wrap some garland around the upper level banisters, the ones that were difficult or even dangerous to reach when one couldn’t teleport. 

Finished with another section and out of garland, Stretch popped back down by Edge to grab another few strands. 

“how’s it looking?” he asked, watching Edge hopefully as he surveyed the banisters. 

“You missed a few,” he replied. 

Stretch frowned. “well, i’m not done yet,” he huffed. “is it at least looking okay so far?”

That time Edge nodded. “Yes, it looks fine.”

Okay. Stretch knew that Edge was stressed, but this was getting a little ridiculous. “fine?” Stretch gasped theatrically, one hand clutching at his nonexistent pearls. “just ‘fine’? edge, i’m crushed. i slaved over those banisters, you know that? i’m toiling away, putting my life on the line for your happiness, and all i get is ‘fine’?”

Edge was watching him with a raised eyebrow, humor burning beneath the disinterest he tried to project. “Are you finished?” he asked, deadpan. 

Stretch scoffed. “no, i still have two banisters left.”

Edge sighed and pinched his nasal ridge. “I meant, are you done with the theatrics?”

“never.”

With a nod, Edge turned to look at him fully. “I suspected as much. The banisters look wonderful, thank you for all of your hard work.”

That time, Stretch took an exaggerated step backward. “whoa, careful there, edgelord; you’ll give someone whiplash with those mood swings.” He went over to the table a few feet behind Edge and picked up the garland he was after. “you know, you’re like that song--”

“No,” Edge hissed, turning on his heel to give Stretch a glare that might have been threatening if Stretch didn’t know him so well. 

“that one by Katy Perry.”

“Stretch!” A warning if there ever was one.

Since when did Stretch listen to warnings?

“‘cause you’re hot then you’re cold, you’re yes then you’re no--” 

A few snickers nearby was all it took. Edge lunged for him, but he was too quick. He wasn’t even singing yet; he had to see how far he could take this. Up on one of the two banisters he had left, he began singing the song loud enough for everyone to hear as he wrapped the garland. He didn’t know all of the lyrics, but he did the best he could, dancing a little in time to the tune. 

“Stretch, I swear to the Angel above, I will end you!”

Breaking off mid-lyric in a fit of laughter, he leaned over the banister, resting on his folded arms. This was too much fun. “that’s a little vague isn’t it? i thought you were more creative than that.”

Edge’s jaw clenched, watching him with blazing eye lights as he finished off the banister and teleported to the final one. 

“besides, you’d have to catch me first.” Stretch gave him a wink. 

The smirk that spread slowly across Edge’s mouth was a little unsettling. 

“You say that as though you don’t think I could.”

Stretch snorted. “what are you gonna do? you hate teleporting; even if you miraculously gained the ability, you’d end up blowing chunks off the balcony and i don’t think anyone wants to see that.” 

A few monsters looked a little green at the idea. 

That damn smirk didn’t go away. What was Edge planning? 

“No, I wouldn’t teleport; you’re correct about that. It would only be fair of you to give me fifteen seconds before you teleport away, don’t you think?” 

Fifteen seconds? There was no way in any reality that Edge could make it up to where Stretch was in only fifteen seconds. Stretch finished the last of the garland and turned to lean against the pillar that ran from floor to ceiling. 

“yeah, sure, fifteen seconds.”

“Promise me.”

Stretch waved a hand. “really? okay, yeah, i promise; i won’t teleport or take any shortcuts for fifteen seconds.”

With a nod, Edge turned to set his clipboard, pen, and reading glasses on the table, then took off his suit jacket and handed it to one of his assistants. “Your fifteen seconds starts now,” he said as he unbuttoned the cuffs of his sleeves and rolled them up to his elbows. Stretch was starting to think this may have been a bad idea. 

Without warning, Edge bolted full speed toward the wall that went up to Stretch’s banister. Stretch watched, mouth hung open in speechless awe, as Edge leapt up at the wall and spider-monkey-parkour’ed his way up, somehow finding the tiniest of ledges in air vents or door frames to hang onto. 

With three seconds to spare, Edge pulled himself over the banister and crossed his arms over his chest. He was only barely breathing heavily, the asshole. 

“how...how did you...” Stretch looked down at the ground, his mind still trying to process what he’d just witnessed. 

Edge smirked. “I win. Now I get to end you.”

And Stretch was pretty sure he’d go with a smile on his face. “i might just kiss you first.”

A chorus of “awwwww”s and a few shouts of “do it!” broke the spell. Edge glanced out at all the monsters on the main floor looking up at the two of them expectantly. 

With a huff, Edge turned back to Stretch. “I’d like to see you try.” There was a glint in his eye lights, one that Stretch recognized as a challenge. With that, he leapt over the banister and velcroed his way down, landing in a crouch on the ground. With as much dignity as he had ever possessed, Edge pulled his sleeves back down as he sauntered over to the table and put his jacket back on, then began barking orders at monsters to get things finished up before the day was over. 

Stretch had to take several minutes to get his brain working again. One thing was for damn certain: He was going to win this new challenge to kiss Edge.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks so much for reading!


End file.
